


football fails

by Argentina



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 12:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20096953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argentina/pseuds/Argentina
Summary: Baz wants to teach Simon how to play football, and Simon doesn't have a clue on how to start.





	football fails

**Author's Note:**

> okay sooooo i live in the US, but i assume that football must mean soccer over here, so hopefully i got it right  
it's the ball that you kick, right? tbh it should just be called football everywhere, cause it's FOOTball after all and you don't use your hands
> 
> i found this tumblr post that gives prompts for every day of the month of August, and i discovered it like yesterday so i was already late to start it, but i still got lazy and didn't finish this fic until today (third of august) but here it is, my dudes
> 
> prompt for this one is: disillusionment 
> 
> it's really short and bad, but take my offering 
> 
> also this is the tumblr in case you want to see it: https://downwithwritersblock.tumblr.com/

“Come on, just kick it. It’s really not that complicated,” Baz encourages, standing to the left of Simon. 

Simon stares at the ball, skeptical. “I told you, I’m no good at this. You’re the football star, why don’t you demonstrate?”

Baz rolls his eyes, but still takes Simon’s place when he steps out of the way to allow Baz to stand in front of the ball. “How can you not know how to kick?”

“Well, they don’t exactly teach these kinds of things in foster care,” Simon justifies, smiling a little as he watches tiny strands of Baz’s hair flow freely in the breeze. It’s starting to become winter, and the air is getting colder and stronger. Baz is intent on teaching Simon how to play a simple game of football before the grounds are all covered by snow. 

“Okay, fine.” Baz turns around to ensure that Simon is watching. Simon quickly tears his gaze away from Baz’s luxurious hair and turns to watch his shoes instead. “You just go like this.” 

In a single swift movement, Baz manages to launch the ball a good distance into the air, and he didn’t even have a running start. Simon’s eyes follow the trail in awe, and Baz looks at him, amused. 

“See?” Baz says, walking forward toward the direction of where the ball landed. Simon follows him, grinning. “It’s really not that hard.”

“But, Baz! You’re so amazing at this,” he says, still reeling from the shock of witnessing Baz’s skill firsthand. 

“It’s called practicing. You can do it too.”

“No way, I’d look like trash compared to you. Just thinking about that makes me want to do it less,” Simon frowns, looking pensive.

“Simon, we have an agreement,” Baz reminds him. It’s true. During breakfast this morning, Penny was discussing sports with Baz, while Simon just tuned out of it until Penny suggested that he should try getting into something as a hobby, which he vehemently shook his head at. Baz, being Baz, used this as a chance to bug Simon until he reluctantly agreed to try practicing football with him. 

Well, maybe it wasn’t completely an agreement, but it’s close enough, and Baz isn’t going to let Simon get away with anything. 

“You kind of forced me to say yes,” Simon tells him, pressing his lips into a thin line. 

“What, are you a chicken?” Baz jokes, dodging the comment. He would tease him more if he wasn’t so desperate to see Simon go out onto the field and finally kick a ball for once. Honestly, how can Simon even run if he seems so unathletic? 

“No,” Simon grumbles. The two of them finally reach the ball. Baz hastily shifts it with his feet to position it in front of Simon. 

“Okay, do it. If you can slay a dragon, you can do this,” he says, stepping backwards.

Simon gives him a look, and Baz just smiles sheepishly. “Go on.”

“Fine,” Simon states, firmly. He takes one step back, raises his right foot, and kicks, hard. 

What he kicked wasn’t exactly the ball, though. His foot keeps moving forward in the air, missing his target by an inch. It throws him off balance, and he nearly trips and falls backwards. 

Baz breaks into laughter from behind him, and he feels his face reddening. This is exactly why he didn’t want to come out here; he’s not good at any athletic activity. 

“It’s not funny.”

“It is,” Baz manages to get out in between his laughing fit. His cheeks are a little more flushed than usual, and it’s probably due to that and the cold. “Don’t worry, Simon. I still love you. That was just atrocious.”

Simon rolls his eyes, but he can feel a smile tugging at his lips.


End file.
